


Reunion

by WriteReal



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, My version of the perect ending; not likely where the series is going.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-24 03:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteReal/pseuds/WriteReal
Summary: Post Crisis on Infinite Earths. Olicity gets their second chance at a perfect ending. Love, angst, and smut (chapter 2) ahead.
Relationships: Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 7
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter 1

She knew in her bones that things had changed. On a cosmic level. It shouldn’t surprise her, and it really didn’t, but it did bother her. Human beings were not meant to live multiple lives. Their minds and souls were not meant to be recycled. She had lived a whole different life. She had evolved and changed as a person and certainly as a mother, and without remembering a moment of it, she mourned the loss of the Felicity that had been.

At the same time, this now, this life, was the most precious thing in the world, in any version of ever. The smell of blood and leather and steel permeated the air all around her. It had been the longest, hardest singular battle of their lives, but it was over. They were still standing, and according to The Monitor, they had won. 

She had watched Oliver fight, but mostly from a distance. He had never been better than tonight. He was a lethal whirling force of nature, striking down foes with fierce and ruthless efficiency. He took her breath away, still. For all the people wielding powers around him, he still stood apart and a head above. There were no meta genes, no given abilities to help form a hero. It was all hard work, determination, and the biggest heart of any person she had ever met.

All of them moved quietly around the battlefield, exhausted, stunned, and grateful to still be alive. The Monitor stood tall and imposing in the middle, his impassive eyes moving from the faces of hero after hero. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, and she couldn’t guess based on the faces of the men and women before him. They had their best game faces on. All she knew was that his words were momentous and sobering.

As The Monitor abruptly turned on his heel and strode away, she gasped and held her breath. Would everything change again? Would she blink and be back in that other life or in an entirely new one? Most importantly, would she still have her husband and children? That was truly all that mattered. Let the world be in shambles. Let the frickin’ universe be in shambles. She wanted her family. She and Oliver deserved that, and their children deserved to have their parents.

Then, he was turning to face her, and their eyes locked. Her breath whooshed out. Please, please, please, she begged in her mind and from her soul. Please let him be my Oliver, in this life. Their daughter waited at their home, safe in the formidable arms of her bubbe. Their son was finally coming home. Please. Please. 

His blue, blue eyes looked deep into hers, and then he smiled. It was her smile; the one he only ever gave to her. Relief, like a wave of warm water suffused her, and she sobbed. He started towards her and she ran to him as fast as she could. As soon as she could make it, she launched herself into his arms.

He enveloped her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping her petite frame completely within his larger body. His strength and love surrounded her. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up and even closer, crushing her breasts again him, pressing her hips against his. She buried her nose into his neck, inhaling that familiar sent of him that was her home. 

And she cried. She cried for every sacrifice, every loss, ever heartbreak of the last eight years. It poured out of her, forcing her jaws wide, her lungs burning as she screamed into his shoulder. A wail tore out of her and kept going and going; she purged all of the pain. Her body shook with the force of her fear and grief, and most of all, her need for her family to be safe and whole.

Somehow, in the storm of her grief, she realized that Oliver was doing the same thing. His soul-baring keens were muffled by her hair, his tears soaking the tresses, his body shaking from head to toe, and yet they leaned on each other and stayed standing. They were gripping each other so fiercely it hurt. 

Her eyes were so swollen and full of tears that she could barely see, but she lifted her head and looked up at his face, angling it so that she could look him in the eye. She needed to speak.

“Oliver,” she choked between sobs. “We’ve been apart, for a long time. I don’t remember any of it. I don’t know for how long, but I lost you. Mia lost you. William lost you. I was alive but I didn’t live.”

“I know, I know,” he chanted. “I don’t remember what The Monitor did or what life I lived, but he took everything from us.” His face contorted. “The deal I made; I wasn’t there when Mia grew up. Or William” His breathing hitched and his voice faltered. “I lost all of you.”

She nodded and pressed her fingers deep into his flesh.

“Yes, you did, and now I need you to make me a promise. I need you to swear on Mia and William’s lives. Four years ago you promised me that you would never, ever lie to me again. You’ve kept that promise.” She gulped in air and fiercely shook his head, her fingers digging into his hair. “But you broke my trust when you made a deal with the FBI and went to prison. For life. “

Oliver’s eyes dropped, shame covering his face, his breathing as rough and hitched as hers. She squeezed his face and he looked back up at her. 

“I’m not going to castigate you about that again. It’s in the past. But when you made this… deal with The Monitor. I don’t know what you promised, but we both know it was too big of a sacrifice. I know it may have worked, it may have saved lives or worlds, or whatever, but it was too much.” 

She shook his head again, each shake punctuating each word. “It. Was. Too. Much, Oliver. We have suffered enough. We have sacrificed enough.” Her loud voice came out and she did not check it. “No more. Promise me, swear to me on our children, that you will never make another decision like that again without my permission. And it is permission, Oliver. I am your wife and mother of your children. Neither of us gets to go off making life-changing decisions without the okay of the other.”

She searched his eyes and pulled herself up on her toes until they were nose-to-nose. “Marriage is about inclusion. It’s about unity. It needs respect as much as it needs love. And I need you to promise me that you will respect what I need, and what I want as your wife, your partner. Promise me!”

He nodded, tears coursing down his face. “I promise. I swear. I swear on Mia and William and on the vows we took. Never again. And not just because I’m done being the Arrow. Not just because I want us to have our lives and our family, but because the most important thing in my life, for the rest of my life, is us. I will never put anything before our love and our family again.”

She nodded, gulping as the tears burned their way down her already rough and stinging cheeks. He choked out his needs.

“Let’s go home. I need to hold our daughter. I need to hear William’s voice. I need my family.”

“There’s nothing I want more,” she whispered. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, and her heart swelled. Her husband. The love of her life. They were going home. Forever. She kissed him back, pouring all of her love into it. At long last, it was their turn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've seen the incredibly emotion reunion of Oliver and Felicity. Now it's time to see...the other reunion of two people who had loved and desired each other throughout multiple realities. This part earns the Explicit rating. You can find me on Twitter as @WriteReal1. Come say hi and re-tweet if you like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this. Anxiety is a real thing with me. I hope it holds up to your expectations. I *might* add an epilogue. Let me know if you think it needs one.

He closed the bedroom door and turned to her, a soft, almost shy smile on his face. She slid the hair tie down and shook her hair loose. Mia was old enough now that Felicity had to pull her hair back while nursing her, or the baby would tug and tug on it. However, that was secondary to the hard little nubs under her gums their daughter was now sporting that did not feel good against nipples.

“She asleep?” Felicity asked, putting aside her tablet and slipping down against the headboard. 

“Soundly, with her bubbe on the bed next to her.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “If my mom had her way, she’d sleep in there every night, and we’d have to fight to hold our own daughter.”

Oliver smiled as he sat on the bed and reached out and stroked his finger down her right arm. A shiver zipped up her spine.

“Well, a full-time babysitter could come in handy sometimes.”

“Oliverrrr,” Felicity warned. “Don’t even think it. I love my mom, but she is NOT moving in with us.”

He grinned, knowing full well that the Smoak women could not live together full time without killing each other. “I know. But…” he trailed his fingers along her arms and noted the second shiver. “Maybe she could live a little closer…”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “How much closer?”

Oliver’s fingers walked up her bicep to her shoulder and across her bare collarbone. “I don’t know…maybe in the neighborhood.”

Felicity growled. Oliver smiled, but his eyes stayed trained on his fingers as they danced across her clavicle and to the hollow in her throat, which his index finger circled in slow, soft arcs. Felicity swallowed, hard, and he reached up and stroked her throat.

“Okay, how about the same town?”

She made a not-convinced-but-almost-non-commital sound. Oliver leaned forward and kissed her forearm, pressing soft, warm kisses up her arm to her bicep and up to the top of her shoulder.

“On the outskirts of town.”

“She would die of boredom,” Felicity protested, her breath already hitching at the feel of his lips against her skin. “She would be here 24/7. It would be a nightmare.”

Oliver’s tongue swirled against her collarbone and she bit back a moan. He was not fighting fair, and nothing they talked about right now was going to be a binding agreement. Negotiating with Oliver when he was using his hands and mouth fried her brain more than booze, benzos and Vertigo combined, and was not a good idea.

“She could get a job,” Oliver coaxed, his tongue painting a wet stripe along the indentation above her collarbone as he worked his way over to the hollow of her throat. His fingers had already moved on, down her sternum and dancing over her abdomen. 

“Doing what?” Felicity insisted. “There aren’t any casinos here.”

“Hmm,” Oliver said. His tongue touched the hollow of her throat and she threw her head back and arched into his mouth. His lips sealed around the tender skin and he sucked, ever so gently.

“She would be a really good hostess at a restaurant or a club. Anything where people go to relax and have fun, she would be an asset.”

“We live in a town full of ex-special ops and mercs,” Felicity said, arching her back, pushing his mouth deeper into his skin. “How many night clubs can there be?”

Oliver chuckled, his warm breath and rough scruff dragging across her skin making it erupt into goosebumps.

“A lot, baby. People like that just want to re-laaaxxx.”

Felicity laughed as he mimicked her words from years ago as she had tugged on his tie at the birthday party and told him to enjoy their victory. He had been right; there had been no time for relaxing. Maybe he was right again.

Felicity dropped her head forward and let her lips skim against his temple. She pressed her lips firmly into his skin and buried her nose into his hair, nuzzling him. Oliver shivered, and she smiled.

“Do you really want my mom to live in the same town, Oliver? Think about it.”

Oliver raised his face to hers and their blue eyes locked. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to her lips.

“I want our family together. Whether that means she lives here, or a nearby city, or even a nearby state. I just want us all to be together. You, me, Mia, William, your mom, Speedy, Roy, Dig, Lyla, and JJ. All of us. We’ve earned this. We deserve it.”

She cupped his face with both hands. “You big, beautiful sap. I love you so much,” she whispered. She kissed him softly, and then she tilted her head, opened her mouth and her tongue swiped the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth to hers, and their tongues stroked each other.

“Felicity,” he murmured, as she slid down the headboard and he pulled her under him.

“Hmm?” she hummed.

“No more talking about your mother tonight.”

She carded her fingers through his hair and gave him her best come-hither look.

“Deal.” 

It was, no matter how many ethereal years had passed, the first time they had been together physically since Mia’s birth. It wasn’t a lack of desire – on either of their parts – but Felicity had had some tearing during Mia’s birth, and establishing a nursing routine had been hard, and Oliver hadn’t wanted to rush anything. So, there had been a lot (a LOT) of cuddling, and kisses, and gentle, longing touches that had not gone beyond, before The Monitor showed up and ended their lives.

She remember Him arriving, and Oliver holding the knife, putting his body between hers and The Monitor. The pain, dear God, how she remembered the pain, that he was leaving. You could re-set the timeline, re-invent the fricking universe and she would never forget that. There had been one, almost ridiculous, fleeting thought as she had held the love of her life close, and it was that they had not gotten to re-ignite that spark between them after Mia was born. The love and the connection had been there the whole time, but that one tactile, physical aspect was missing. She’d thought they had time. He’d thought they time.

They didn’t have time, and it wasn’t like they could excuse themselves to the next room to have it, nor could they have done it if the chance had been there with their daughter and The Monitor in the house. There had been hugs and kisses and then the worst, a soul-destroying good-bye of her life.

But now, some how, some way, and she was not going to look too closely at it or question it, they were back. He was here, in her arms, his strong, lean body poised over hers, his elbows and knees supporting his weight as he hovered above her. Swiftly, and obviously with his acquiescence, she rolled them until she was on top. 

“Baby,” she whispered into his mouth, kissing his soft lips, swiping her tongue into his mouth. “I don’t the whys or wheres or whens of right now, but I do know, that right now, I want you. I need you.”

Oliver’s blue eyes blazed down into hers. That tie that was the pulse between them sprang to life. He knew exactly what she meant. His mouth crashed down on hers, forcing her jaws apart, her mouth opening to his onslaught and matching it as she pressed down into him, her tongue twining around his, and then pulling it into her mouth, swirling around it, laving it, before he pulled it back and did the same to her, pulling her to him. She responded, pushed forward, needing to meld them in every way.

He rolled them so that he was on top. She spread her legs wider, opened up her hips (oh damn, yoga was so freaking awesome for that) and her thighs clenched around his hips as her lips crushed against his. Her right hand threaded through his hair, clenched, and then pulled, hard. He gasped and smiled against his lips. Yes, a little bit of pain for her archer. A touch of a reminder that she was not subservient or a follower. She could take, but she could also give.

He wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her flush against him. Her breasts pressed into his hard chest, their ribs pushed up against each other, and she wantonly rolled her hips against his and the formidable erection that he was pressing against her right hip.

“Did you miss me?” She whispered. “Because I really. Fricking. Missed. You.”

Oliver leaned lack, using that crazy insane core strength of his, slanted his mouth across hers and held them both in mid-air as he devoured her mouth and pulled her against him. They ravaged and pillaged and reveled in each other until Oliver sank down, pulling her with him. Panting, gloriously winded, they panted against each other’s lips as they pulled slightly apart and looked into each other’s eyes.

“I won’t last long,” Oliver said, regretfully. “I know it’s only been three and a half months, but—“

“It’s actually been a lot longer,” she said harshly. “We don’t remember it, but we feel it.” She paused and dropped her forehead against his. “It feels like it has been a lifetime, Oliver. I think it has been.”

The sound he made, between a choke and wail, prompted her to press her lips against his.

“We are not about the past. Frack it. Forget whatever of it that we feel that we can’t even remember.” She took his face, the face she loved so much and saw reflected in their daughter’s every day, into her hands. “This is us, here and now, and everything that happens here is perfect. I want you. I need you. More than that, I need us. And we have never, ever, been less than enough.”

It was quick and desperate and primal. They need to bathe themselves in each other’s essence. That singular connection between them was frayed and worn, and they needed to strengthen and renew it. First he used his fingers, slipping past her underwear and through her wetness, circling and pressing on her swollen and erect clit. She moaned and her hips shot forward. She tugged at his hair and yanked his mouth down to his.

While she pillaged and re-memorized his taste and the contours of his mouth, his fingers continued their magic ministrations until one finger cautiously dipped inside her. She moaned and thrust up, seeking more. He plunged the digit into her once, then twice, before adding a second, and then rapidly, a third. It stretched her in a way she’d had not been for many moths. She expected pain or discomfort, but there wasn’t any; just a stretching of muscles not used for a while.

“Does this hurt?” he breathed as he kissed his way down her throat, stopping to nip at her collarbone and then lathe it with the flat of his tongue.

“No,” she breathed. “It feels amazing.”

He pulled back slightly and looked at her, his very serious eyes searching hers.

“I know pain is common,” he said softly. “Especially since you tore—“

She put her hands on either side of his temples and pulled him forward for a chaste kiss.

“Oliver, I’m not lying or exaggerating. It’s like muscles being stretched that haven’t been used in a while. A far too long while,” she growled, nipping at his full bottom lip. She hesitated, and then blew out a big breath. “Of course, I’m probably going to feel different. Pushing out a 8lbs 3oz baby is obviously going to make some changes.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “As if it makes a difference. When you start using those muscles, it’s so tight I can’t barely breathe.”

She grinned nipping his bottom lip his lip again. “Good, because I have made sure to continue exercising those kegal muscles.”

He groaned against her mouth and then pushed his tongue inside, and she eagerly latched onto it. Her hands slid down his chest and then his abs, her fingers pressing and caressing the familiar swell and dips of his magnificent body. She swirled her finger around his belly button causing him to hiss. Then, she let her fingers travel lower, pushing under the loose swear pants, delighted to find that he had foregone underwear.

Her fingers encircled his rock hard, throbbing cock, Oliver choked and threw his head back in a long moan. She pumped his softly at first and then with a growing urgency. He was on the edge, and she longed to take him over it.

Suddenly, Oliver flipped them and her hand got caught between their hips as he ground them together. Unceremoniously, he pulled off her top and his other hand closed over her left breast, kneading and caressing it, finger fingers lightly pinching her nipple. With one fluid movement he pulled up to half-sitting and stripped off his own top, throwing it aside. The he pulled her back down and latched his mouth on her nipple.

For a microsecond, she froze. Her breasts had served one purpose; and one purpose only for the last three months. What if they leaked? What if they were so big and full of milk that he was disgusted?

Oliver stilled above her, removing his mouth from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I didn’t think. I shouldn’t do that. It’s different now.”

She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Actually, it’s really…not.” She looked up at him, her eyes piercing his. “I don’t know how to explain it, but my body knows the difference. With Mia the milk lets down immediately, but there was no feeling of that when you did that.” She paused. “It’s actually kind of amazing, what the human body can do.”

“But I shouldn’t—“

She reached up and caressed his face. “Yes, you should. Be a little more gentle because she’s teething, and she’s still learning not to use her teeth.”

Oliver grimaced. “That has got to hurt.”

“You bet it does, but she’ll learn. 

“Maybe she should stop—“

“No!” Felicity said forcefully. “Breast milk is what’s best for her. I don’t want her on formula. I want to nurse her for at least six months, preferable a year. It’s what’s best for her.”

“What about you?” Oliver countered. “If you’re in pain or it’s uncomfortable.

Felicity dug her fingers into his hair. “It’s not that bad and totally worth it. She and I will get it figured out.”

Oliver nodded, looking contemplative. “Okay, as long as you’re sure…”

Felicity leaned up and stroked her tongue against the underside of his jaw, and Oliver’s breath hitched.

“Ol-iv-er,” she breathed. “Things were getting very wonderful before the whole breast feeding conversation.”

“Hmm, so they were,” Oliver replied, his blue eyes drilling into hers. “Now, where was I?

He latched onto her left nipple firmly and sucked and she arched up, her head thrown back. Her hands tugged at his sweat pants until they were gone, the hot skin of his chest, hips, and legs pressing against hers.

Completely naked, his cock slid up and down through her wetness and they both groaned. They wanted to take their time, to savor this reunion, but at the same time, they needed this carnal union. Oliver pulled her tongue deep into his mouth and began sucking on it as his hand began circling her clit, sliding down every few strokes to dip into her wet opening, his digits teasing her ache to be filled.

“Oliver,” she moaned, clutching him. He wouldn’t stop until he had made her come at least once. No matter what else you might say about Oliver Queen, he was a generous, caring lover. His fingers circled faster and pressed harder. It had been so long since she had felt this burning heat in her low belly and between her thighs.

She whimpered as he thrust all three of his fingers into her and pressed down hard on her clit. She bucked against him, her head thrashing back and forth. Then, he and sucked on her right nipple hard, pulling it to the back of his mouth against the ribbed roof of flesh and she came instantly. It was hard and fast and perfect, and she gave herself over to it, hoping in some distant part of the brain that her mother and Mia couldn’t hear her.

Slowly and gently, Oliver allowed her to unwind , her muscles laxing, her breath evening out. But, she was far from done. Her hand slipped between their slick bodies, her fingers closing around his throbbing cock. Oliver’s thrust forward against her, breathing heavily.

“Oliver, I need you,” she whispered, licking at the shell of his ear. A strangled noise erupted from his throat.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Oh, I am VERY sure,” she said, shifting her body against, pushing her hips up and spreading her legs until her hips encompassed his. “Oliver, I need you inside me, right now.”

He made another choking noise, and then a low growl as her hand stroked against his straining cock and lined him up with her entrance. The tip gently entered her and she arched up in ecstasy as her body welcomed him.

“Is this okay?” he breathed.

“Oh yes,” she said, rubbing her lips along his in a slow, sideway infinity symbol. “But, there’s still too much of you outside, and that will not do.”

“I just don’t want to hurt—“

Felicity just took control. She spread her legs more, thrust down her hips, grabbed his, and moved. He shot through her clenched and aching walls until he was seated completely inside her.

He gasped, his forehead pressing hers. She pushed her hips forward and back, sliding him in and out of her. Her worried were unfounded. They still fit together perfectly. She swiveled her hips as he plunged in and squeezed hard as he pulled back.

“Felicity, I—uh, I’m not going to last,” he panted.

“You better not,” she chanted back. “You better let go, husband, while I do the same.” She tugged his chin until their eyes were locked. “This is us, Oliver. We both need this.”

He kissed her fiercely then, his mouth pushing her deep into her. Then, he hiked her hips up, pulled her legs up around his waist and plunged in.

Dear God, how she loved all those salmon ladder reps and those fighting practices and every other thing he did to hone his body because it all lead to her pleasure. He engulfed her, his core flexing as he slammed into her, and she threw back her head and keened in pleasure. He was claiming her as his, just as she claimed his as hers.

His strokes were fast, and deep and she reveled in every one. Her walls were tightening more and more as he pulled out before thrusting back in. Her head dropped to his shoulder, his panting echoing in her ear. 

Her finger circled her clit as she approached her release and he shoved the digit roughly aside, replacing it with his own. He had no mercy, circling, pressing, even sliding behind where he was plunging into her to stroke that soft flap of skin at her rear opening.

His returned devotion to her clit was her undoing. He was spearing in and out of her, hitting her cervix just the way she loved. Her abs and veginal tightened, her chest and arms tingled. Then he thrust deep and held himself there and pinched her clit.

She came undone. Arching, gasping, contracting, her body moving mindlessly against his. He held her hips still, the pressure unrelenting, her muscles continuing to spasm until she wanted to scream. When she was reaching too much he pulled out and slammed into her one, then twice more, and he came, his body shaking with the effort. He stilled as his orgasm swept over him and emptied him inside her. They stayed there, gasping, their nerves tingling, their sweaty skin sliding against each other.

“Oh god,” she panted. “I have missed this.”

He laughed, his voice winded and thread. “That makes two of us.”

He gently withdrew and settled back, pulling her into his side until her head rested against his chest, her right leg thrown over his, well aware that her somewhat-sticky wetness was pressed against his hip.

“We are so good together,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “I don’t care how old we get, that is never going to change.”

She grinned up at him. “Are you suggesting wheelchair sex, Mr. Queen?”

His eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “If that’s what it takes, absolutely, Mrs. Smoak-Queen.”

She laughed and leaned forward and kissed him before dropping her cheek to his sweaty chest.

“You’re on. As long as we’re together, I’m good with it.”

“Always,” Oliver murmured. “Us, our kids, our family. That is all that matters now.”

She nodded against his chest, her eyes starting to droop.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. She looked up at the tears brightening his eyes and the same love and devotion filling hers.

“Always,” she whispered. “You are my always, my forever, and I can’t wait to share the rest of our lives together.”

Their lips met softly, rubbing, gently pushing against each other before they mutually pulled back, Felicity rubbing her cheek into his chest, Oliver sighing and sinking into the mattress as his whole body relaxed. Life, in this moment, was sheer perfection, and no one and nothing would ever take that away from them. Not in any timeline, universe or version of reality. This was them, and it was perfect.


End file.
